


Do We Fight for the Right to a Night at the Opera Now?

by flaneuse



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Blowjobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Modern AU, i genuinely apologize for the title i couldn't pass that up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaneuse/pseuds/flaneuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire takes Enjolras out to the opera. Blowjobs ensue. Modern AU, established relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do We Fight for the Right to a Night at the Opera Now?

**Author's Note:**

> I needed something happy and sweet to write while I wrote a much longer, much sadder fic for these two, and my friend prompted this for me. Unbeta'd, written in a few hours, I apologize for the quality?

Grantaire had surprised him with the tickets. Enjolras had a thing for the opera. The passion and the music, it was one of Enjolras's few true pleasures.  


Grantaire pretended to be annoyed every time Enjolras would play La Straniera while he chopped vegetables for dinner, but Grantaire secretly loved the way the tension would drain from Enjolras's shoulders. He'd relax and begin to sing, and his face would scrunch up with emotion. He always got gruff and embarrassed every time Grantaire caught him at it, but then Grantaire would kiss his neck and begin to sing as well, loudly and not well, swaggering around their kitchen with a bottle of wine in hand, putting Enjolras at ease.  


So when Fidelio was being performed at the opera house, Grantaire saw an opportunity to do something nice for Enjolras. And something nice for himself as well. Because he couldn't deny how turned on he got when Enjolras listened to opera. He was, well, uninhibited, a little wild, and fuck if Grantaire didn't want to crawl towards towards him on all fours and suck his dick in time to the music, feel him come as the music reached a crescendo. And when Grantaire wanted something, he usually got it, through one way or another.  


So Grantaire splurged, getting them a private box, and it was probably because Enjolras didn't know the intent behind it that he looked truly touched, and he tried to hold back a smirk as Enjolras kissed him sweetly, a quiet smile on his face.  


Finally the night came, and Grantaire had to physically restrain himself from jumping Enjolras right then and there. He was dressed to the nines in a crisp, inky black tuxedo, and jesus christ was that a cravat? Was Enjolras actually wearing a cravat? Grantaire himself was dressed similarly, but he knew he looked shabby compared to Enjolras's David, looking as if sculpted from marble himself. Though Grantaire could attest from personal experience that Enjolras's ass was much better.  


Grantaire sat through the first act easily. He did enjoy the music- he could not live with Enjolras and not eventually come to like opera at least a little bit- and the anticipation was sweet. He kept chancing looks over at Enjolras, who was leaning forwards just a little bit, cravat (cravat, Grantaire had to keep repeating to himself) loosened. He was entirely enraptured. Oh yes, Grantaire thought to himself. This was a good idea. Briefly he wondered where he ranked among the three great loves of Enjolras's life: Grantaire himself, opera, and The Revolution, a nonprofit charity organization that Enjolras had built from the ground up. Then he quickly decided that it didn't really matter, since Grantaire had a habit of making himself a part of the other two as much as he could.  


During the intermission, Enjolras happily fetched them each a glass of red wine, and Grantaire was on his best behavior, sipping slowly, and savoring the flush of excitement in Enjolras's cheeks as he complimented the talents of the actors.  


"Just wait until we get to act two," Grantaire couldn't help himself from saying, and Enjolras looked bemused.  


"You know this is one of my favorite operas. I know how it ends," Enjolras said, and Grantaire raised his eyebrows.  


"I'm not sure that you do." He mumbled into his glass.  


"Grantaire," Enjolras warned. "What have you done?"  


Grantaire pretended to look affronted. "What could I have done? Gone back in time and rewritten it myself? Have a little faith, Enjolras."  


Enjolras still looked suspicious, but he let Grantaire take his arm and lead him back to their box. When they sat and the lights dimmed, signaling the continuation of the performance, Grantaire casually placed his hand on Enjolras's knee. Enjolras ignored it, concentrating on the performance.  
Grantaire let a few minutes pass, then inched it up his thigh just a little bit, and began to rub featherlight circles with his thumb.  


"Grantaire-" Enjolras tried to say, but Grantaire shushed him. "The music, Enjolras, please." And Enjolras let out a tiny snort and rolled his eyes, concentrating once again.  


Now, Fidelio being one of Enjolras's favorite operas meant that Grantaire knew it intimately, and he'd timed his advances well. He let ten or so minutes pass before he again began his ascent. Grantaire grinned to himself when Enjolras shifted, unconsciously giving Grantaire easier access. He was trying his best to ignore Grantaire, however, which Grantaire was perfectly happy with. Grantaire cupped Enjolras, feeling his cock begin to swell under his ministrations.  


However Enjolras still looked entirely too interested in the opera, so Grantaire pulled Enjolras's shirt out of where it was tucked neatly into his trousers, then unbuttoned and unzipped those. He did this surprisingly dexterously, and Enjolras was begrudgingly impressed. Less so when Grantaire took his dick in hand and began to slowly stroke it to hardness.  


"Grantaire," Enjolras hissed under his breath. "May I please remind you that we are at the theater?"  


Enjolras was definitely not ignoring him anymore.  


"Exactly." Grantaire said calmly. "Nobody will hear you."  


Enjolras huffed, surprised and unable to respond when Grantaire swiped a thumb over the head of his dick.  


"You planned this, didn't you?" Enjolras asked, part indignant and part awed. "This is why you wanted to take me to the opera?" His voice rose and Grantaire smiled, hand tightening on Enjolras's cock.  


"Now Enjolras, just sit back and enjoy the music."  


Grantaire let go and nonchalantly brought his hand to his mouth, sucking at his thumb where there was a drop of precome. He knew Enjolras was watching him now.  


He slipped off the chair and to the floor, situating himself so he was kneeling in between Enjolras's legs, which he spread apart.  


"Enjolras," he chided. "I paid a lot of money for this private box. You'd better be paying attention to the opera."  


Enjolras groaned and looked back to the stage, but Grantaire could see how the anticipation was making him tense; his neck and jaw were rigid. He was concentrating too hard on not being affected. Grantaire smirked and leaned forward, deliberately bypassing Enjolras's cock to nuzzle at the base.  


He pressed a kiss to the skin there and dragged his tongue, hot and rough, up from the bottom of Enjolras's cock, and then sunk his mouth down over it in one fluid movement. Enjolras's breath hitched and his hands tightened around the armrests, but still he resolutely did not look at Grantaire.  


Grantaire worked him tortuously slowly, spit slick drag of his lips over the velvety soft skin of Enjolras's cock. He pressed his tongue flat against the vein of his dick, taking him so deep that Grantaire's lips were flat against the base of Enjolras's dick.  


He hummed in tune to the music, drawing out a moan from Enjolras. The music was getting louder as it began to reach its peak, and Enjolras could feel a tight, coiling heat in his gut.  


Grantaire, who'd kept his hands strong on Enjolras's hips until now, making sure he didn't move, let them go. He moved back until he was only about halfway on Enjolras's cock, and encouraged Enjolras to move.  


Enjolras groaned obscenely, a sound Grantaire could only hear because it vibrated down to the core of him. Enjolras tipped his head back and slowly began to roll his hips, moving his cock in and out of Grantaire's willing mouth. Grantaire wanted to see Enjolras cast his iron will aside and fuck his mouth. But that stupid cravat was in the way, so Grantaire reached off and tore it off his neck, tossing it to the side.  


Fuck, yes. Enjolras's hair, before so perfectly tucked back, had gotten wild. The light framed his gold curls like a halo. He let Enjolras do most of the work, and kept his mouth hot and wet. Grantaire could see Enjolras's adam's apple bob as he swallowed back a noise, and noticed a tiny bead of sweat as it slid down the bottom of his throat.  


Enjolras reached down suddenly, threading his hands through Grantaire's hair, securing him as he rolled his hips forward with abandon. All Grantaire could hear was the blood roaring in his ears, and the tiny whines that escaped from Enjolras's throat. The music was a far off sound, though he imagined it was all Enjolras could hear.  


Grantaire loved sucking dick, loved feeling Enjolras hot and heavy on his tongue. He loved the aching jaw and the messiness of it, loved swallowing Enjolras's come down. He fucking reveled in it. So he closed his eyes in happy anticipation as Enjolras's thrusts began to get erratic, and his thighs tensed around Grantaire's neck.  


Enjolras came, grunting as his thrusts slowed down, hips arching off the chair and into Grantaire's mouth. Grantaire, for his part, did exactly what he always did: swallowed greedily.  


Finally, Enjolras's grip slackened and he sank back into the chair, boneless and satisfied. Grantaire slid off his cock and slowly cleaned him with his tongue. He gave one last lick to the slit of Enjolras's dick, and Enjolras squirmed, still oversensitive, letting out a sharp gasp, unable to stop himself.  


"Fuck, Grantaire," Enjolras let out, when he'd tucked Enjolras back into his pants and set everything right again.  
Grantaire was still kneeling on the floor, and Enjolras hauled him up into his lap, mindful of Grantaire's straining erection. The flush from Enjolras's arousal was fading, and he leaned in to bite at Grantaire's neck.  


"That was a very nice present you got me," he said lowly, and Grantaire could hear the smile in his voice.  


"I thought so," Grantaire tried to reply lightly, but his throat was wrecked, and he was hoarse.  
Enjolras let out an appreciative groan. Grantaire's voice after he swallowed was one of his favorite sounds in the world. Possibly better than the opera, but he'd never tell Grantaire that.  


"Opera's not quite over yet," Enjolras said, and thrust a hand into Grantaire's trousers, and Grantaire immediately bucked up into his grasp.  


"Oh please," Grantaire said mildly. "Continue."  


Enjolras bit at his ear and stripped him hard and fast, and Grantaire thought that maybe he liked the opera more than he thought he did after all. And if they needed anything to clean up with? Well, Enjolras's cravat was on the floor somewhere.


End file.
